


Not your fault. It never was.

by AwkwardBlueFish



Category: Batfamily - Fandom, DC - Fandom, Red Hood - Fandom, Red Robin - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Batbrothers, Blood, Gen, Minor Character Death Mentioned, batsiblings, im alive and back with that angst!!, oh would you look at that?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-06 07:30:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21222866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwkwardBlueFish/pseuds/AwkwardBlueFish
Summary: Some nights end badly. These are the nights their eyes are haunted, forms slouched. These are the nights they just want to forget. These are the nights they blame themselves.





	Not your fault. It never was.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m back after who knows how long! And I’ve brought some angst with me! Enjoy being sad :)

Tim says nothing. He says nothing and he just watches. Watches and observes.

Watches as Jason knocks back another shot, glass slamming against marble as he swallows. His leather jacket is torn and stained with grime and dirt from their city. The steel capped boots protecting his feet leave mud marks on the stool. 

Tim didn’t care much for that. 

Jason takes another shot, neck craning back far enough for Tim to worry he’ll fall. He doesn’t. Because not even an intoxicated bat would fall with that many shots in his system. They’ve been taught not to. 

It’s annoying as all hell when all you want to do is forget. Forget and never remember, just for a little while.

“Jason.” Tim greets, voice unintentionally quiet. The slam of glass against marble is loud in the silenced air. “Jason, you need to stop.”

Jason snorts, face contorting as he swings himself around on the bar stool. Tim manages not to winch. His shoulders are hunched, dark circles contrasting against pale skin. He’s too thin. Too exhausted. He looks too tired, too old and weary.

“Now why should I do that Timbers?” His words are hot and angry. Tim knows there not directed at him. There directed at the world, aimed at himself. It’s not a nice sound. 

Tim sighs softly, legs taking him forwards ever so slightly. He stops where he is, a metre away from the man that was falling apart. He wants to get closer, to rest a hand on one of Jason’s large shoulders. To provide comfort. He can’t. It’s not safe. 

Dick’s broken nose, Duke’s cut cheek and Cassandra’s split lip were proof of that. They don’t blame him. They know he’s hurting. Just like they are.

“It’s not healthy.” Is what he says instead. His tongue feels heavy. He feels like a hypocrite. 

“So what.” Jason snaps and he’s twisting away from Tim, hiding and attempting to shield himself away from the world. Away from what had happened. “Alcohols the only constant in my life.”

Tim chews on his lip, shakes his head. His chest feels heavy. “You know it’s not.” They’re here for him. 

Jason’s silent, fist tightening enough against the glass it goes red to stark white in an instant. “What ya’ here for?” Jason finally mutters. “To give me another lecture like B?”

Tim sucks in a breath, teeth chewing on his lower lip. He bites hard, lets it go. “He wasn’t thinking straight. You know he didn’t mean it Jay.”

“Yes he fucking did!” Jason explodes and the glass shatters in his fist. He keeps his grip and Tim swallows as blood bubbles through his fingers. “He fuckin’ did and he’s fuckin’ right!”

Tim’s stomach curls. 

“I got innocent people fucking killed! I got them slaughtered just cause’ of a grudge against a fucking clown! People died because of me!”

Tim’s growling before he even finishes his self deprecating rant. He’s stalking over, hands pushing against broad shoulders and slamming Jason against the edge of the counter sharply and harshly.

“Shut up Jay! That wasn’t your fault and you need to get it through that thick skull of yours!” Tim spits, and his words taste angry and cruel. Jason opens his mouth, brows furrowed and a curl to his lip that reveals his teeth.

Tim shoves him again.

“The only one to blame is that damn clown. The only one to blame is the one who pulled that trigger. The only one to blame is the one that ended their lives just because he can.” Tim’s heaving, his words ringing in the empty bar. His hands are still tight on Jason’s shoulders, making him shut up and to listen for once in his life.

“Tell me,” He starts again. “Did you pull that trigger? Did you cut their lives short? Well? Did you?!”

Jason shakes and his shoulders tremble against Tim’s palms. He’s gone even paler against beauty mars and his teeth rattle with his gill body trembles.

“I might as well have!” He spews out, clenching his fist even tighter. Tim eyes the blood before he’s glaring at Jason with a ferocity that has the larger man reeling back into the counter out of pure shock.

“No.” He snaps and it’s low and angry. He jabs a finger into Jason’s chest, glaring with all the rage he has. “You didn’t. Joker did. Yes we made mistakes, yes we were tricked. But that’s the damn clowns fault, not the others or yours. Bruce can shove it because he knows this. He knows it wasn’t our fault and yet the idiot can’t help but ridicule every little thing we do.”

Jason’s expression flickers before he goes slack. His eyes are dark, haunted. On nights like these, all of their eyes were. “He blames me.” His words are soft, quiet. Resigned. 

Tim snorts and it’s not one of laughter or happiness. “He doesn’t. He blames himself and he’ll take it out on himself as well. You just caught him at a bad time and there’s no doubt in my mind he’s beating himself over it at this very second.”

Jason huffs, it’s loud in the stale air. Tim can’t tell if he’s amused or not. “He always does that.” He mutters and his shoulders hunch forward. He looks so small right now and Tim can’t help but marvel at how wrong it looks.

Slowly he nods. He reaches out, gently taking Jason’s clenched fist into his own. He uncurls the scarred fingers, hissing his sympathy at the blood and glass. 

Jason says nothing, leaning his forehead onto Tim’s shoulder as he lets him work. Tim tilts his head, nuzzles his cheek against his hair before he’s gently pulling a glass shard from his older brothers palm. 

Jason doesn’t even hiss. “When did you become the big brother? Hey Timbers?” His words are thick but lighter. He nearly says in relief.

“When people younger than me were bought into this crazy family.” Tim replies, voice quiet as he wipes at the cut with an iodine soaked gauze. A small smirk twists at his lip and he shrugs the shoulder Jay wasn’t leaning against. “Or when your older brothers can’t do their job.”

Jason snickers then and it’s a refreshing sound. He jabs a finger into Tim’s side after he wraps his hand in a bandage. “You think you better at this than me Timmy?”

Tim chuckles as Jason stands back up again. He isn’t even wobbly. “I reckon I’m doing a pretty good job at it so far.”

“Oi.” Jason hisses, voice teasing. His face is still pale and the bags under his eyes aren’t going away anytime soon but that’s okay. Hell get better. “You still haven’t done one vital thing yet, ya know?”

Tim decides to humour him as they stand there, content. “That so? Do tell me.”

Jason smirks and his teeth seem to glint in the dim lighting of the bar. “You haven’t signed out any hugs yet!”

Tim wouldn’t have moved even if he had the chance. Jason’s arms are around his midsection, a hand tangling in his hair. He laughs quietly and wraps his arms back around him, forehead agains a broad shoulder. 

“Should’ve known.” He mumbles, words muffled by the jacket. 

“Ya definitely should’ve. Dick would be disappointed.” Jason huffs. Tim can’t see his expression but he knows he’d be smiling. 

They stay like that for a good couple of minutes. Taking comfort in each other like they always should do on nights like these.

“Tim?” Tim hums in response. Jason head leans down to lay on his own. “Ya know it weren’t your fault either? Yeah?” His voice seems to vibrate. His voice is too loud.

“Yeah.” Tim hopes Jason doesn’t hear the non committal tone in his voice. 

“Good.” Jay whispers and his arms tighten before he lets them go altogether. “Let’s head back, yeah?” 

Tim nods.

They don’t talk the rest of the way back to the manor. Tim’s tongue is too heavy in his mouth. His breathing isn’t coming as easy as it should and he keeps feeling himself too hold out a little longer. Just a little longer until their back home.

Because it was his fault. Not Jason’s, or Dick’s, or Cass’ or Duke’s. It wasn’t even Bruce’s. It was his and only his.

He was the one that uncoded jokers message. He was the one who got it wrong. He was the reason they went after the decoy bomb. He was the reason why a school full of innocent children died. 

It was him and he’ll never let himself forget it.

**Author's Note:**

> Time to disappear again! 
> 
> Goodbye :)


End file.
